Devices
by RedJudas
Summary: The usual game of heroes and villains stops being fun when one of the participants is seriously injured. The rest of the players are left to blame each other for the incident as one of them contemplates the loss of a partner. PostS4. Possibly AU.
1. Chapter 1: 'Gauntlets'

**CHAPTER 1: _Gauntlets_**

* * *

"Kim!" The desperate shout echoed on the cavernous walls of the large military hangar, reaching the ears of the two fighters engaged in close quarters combat. While one reacted with wide eyed worry and made the mistake of turning her head towards the other side of the hangar, even if all the hardware stored in the building prevented her from finding out just what had caused her partner to call for her, the other took her chance to deliver a powerful kick that sent the distracted opponent crashing against the landing gear of a resting aircraft.

Panting, the one fighter still standing grinned devilishly as she looked at the form of her fallen foe, delighted at the way her rival struggled to get back on her feet after being struck with enough force to shatter normal human bones. Had the fallen fighter not been wearing the latest version of her supersuit, she wouldn't even be conscious to return the sadistic smile directed at her with an expression of grim hatred. As it was, the suit had absorbed enough of the kinetic energy to leave her merely stunned and out of breath.

"Aww. What's the matter, princess? Are you worried about your dopey boyfriend? It sounds like he couldn't even handle Drakken by himself. What a pity, he was showing so much potential for… well, reaching an average level of competence. What do you think happened this time? Oh, wouldn't it just be typical if he tripped with his own pants and got his head stuck on a spare tire? Or better yet, the tail end of a fighter plane? I don't think even Drakken would be oblivious enough to miss the chance of roasting that boob's head if it is stuck on a turbine."

As she mocked the girl's predicament, Shego was taking the chance to focus her energy in her gauntlets, the only alteration to her costume Shego had ever accepted from her boss. Of all the harebrained ideas Drakken had come up with to help Shego regain some advantage over Kim Possible's supersuit, Shego was delighted that the gauntlets proved to be one of the most reliable and useful.

Her initial skepticism at what Drakken had called her 'Early Christmas Gifts' had banished as soon as she had charged them up with her own power and fired a super-charged volley of plasma bursts at one of Drakken's many unfinished projects.

While Drakken would have normally shown self-righteous anger at having Shego blasting away the equipment in his lab with reckless abandon, both were so instantly delighted by the power boost the plasma condensers in the gauntlets had demonstrated that he immediately began to shake his fists in the air in glee and laughing maniacally as he asked Shego to 'Do it again!', a petition Shego gladly obeyed as she followed his example and laughed just as madly while opening fire at random directions.

Finally, after Drakken had allowed Shego to blast away more than a dozen of his lab projects (Some of which he was almost certain would have actually worked properly), both ended up so out of breath from their villainous laughter that they had to lean on each other and rest their foreheads on the shoulder of the their partner as they tried to catch their breath. They didn't move away from each other for a while, both villains being too happy by the results of the Gauntlets' improvised field test to become self-conscious of their proximity. When Drakken began to gloat right next to her ear about how his genius could surpass whatever gadget Kim Possible gained, Shego couldn't help but smile and languidly pat the Doctor in the back for a job well done.

Shego had received that fist version of the gauntlets six months ago, and since then Drakken had engaged in an armament escalation competition with the eggheads that kept 'updating' Possible's supersuit. The more powerful Kim's anti-plasma defenses became, the more the doctor had to improve the gauntlets. Going against the norm, Drakken was showing genuine competence in his efforts to improve Shego's firepower. The gantlets weren't prone to catastrophic failure or malfunction like many of his inventions and at this point the power the gauntlets managed to condensate was enough to at least pop the latest version of the suit's energy shield bubble and give Possible a very good reason to be wary of getting struck by a direct hit.

Along with the energy improvements, Drakken had been adding enough hidden compact gadgets to make a Swiss pocketknife look inefficient (Nothing Pan-Dimensional-Anything had been added yet, thankfully). While the addition of a mini stapler and dog whistle were more than questionable by Shego's standards, the fact that the Doctor had the initiative to add a detachable nail file along with the assorted thieving and spy tools she did request kept her from complaining too violently about the one thing that did bother her the most about the gauntlets.

While the Doctor had been conscious enough about Shego's personal tastes and stealth requirements to paint the gauntlets with a black matte finish and kept them lightweight and comfortable for her to wear, he had been unable to resist the impulse to add his own touch to the design by making sure that the gauntlets emitted a soft dark-blue glow between the seams in the metal plates whenever the cooling system engaged. An aesthetic detail which he told Shego couldn't be changed to make the gauntlets fully black and green.

This had led them to a heated, but childish, discussion about whether or not the blue glow negatively affected Shego's appearance. Because while Shego had to admit to herself that the dark blue glow was subtle enough to look menacing and not clash with her suit, she was quite certain there was nothing accidental about the fact the glow matched the doctor's clothes. As it often did the discussion eventually degenerated into an even more immature fight in which Shego tried to test the retractable claws in the finger tips of the gauntlets with Drakken's skin and the Doctor tried to keep her at bay using a chair to push her away and futilely brandishing a thick cable line as a whip. Had the two henchmen guarding the door of the lab not been already desensitized to the violent antics between the two villains, they could have made comparisons between the scene in front of them and the classic act of lion taming. If you ignored the fact the tamer was trying to appease the lion with offers of Cocoa-Moo and the lion was threatening the tamer with adding some green bruises to his face to 'compliment his appearance'.

But any other quick reminiscences for the villainess were cut short by an even more desperate repetition of Ron's call for help. Sounding so truly pained that Shego had to actually consider whether or not Drakken had actually injured the buffoon or if the Doc was in the process of torturing him.

"Kim! Kim! Hurry! Oh, please hurry! I don't know what to do! Help me, Kim!"

This time the scream immediately prompted Kim to stand back up on unsteady feet and look uncertainly back and forth between the direction from which Ron's voice was coming from and the more than terrifying magnitude of the plasma flames that had grown around Shego's fists. The heroine was trapped between her own desire to aid her partner and the knowledge that turning her back on Shego could result in her immediate combustion.

While Shego had nothing against the blonde idiot beyond the bad experience with The Atttitudinator and his interference in their plans, if Drakken had actually gotten the upper hand in a battle with the boy and provided her with a fair tactical advantage over her own opponent, there was nothing in her play book against taking this chance to beat Possible while her boyfriend pissed his pants.

Besides that, Shego knew Drakken well enough to know he wouldn't under normal circumstances inflict too much harm over a victim even at his full mercy. If there was one thing that certainly didn't influence Drew to become a villain, that's sadism. The mad scientist may be evil, enjoy destruction and rejoice in the defeat (most often than not merely temporal) of his enemies, but he didn't get a kick out of making others feel pain. Drakken wanted the thrill of victory over his enemies, not seeing them in physical pain without a purpose. Considering this, Shego was more than certain Stoppable was probably just screaming because Drakken had managed to tie him to a missile or something equally ridiculous. And with the doctor's luck, the missile probably didn't even have fuel in it.

"Oh, C'mon, Kimmie! Don't tell me you plan to just stand there. Isn't this the part where you should try to do one of your silly cheerleader cartwheels to avoid my fire while you run to his rescue?"

Kim sneered at Shego as she moved her limbs to a tense fighting stance, drawing strength from her own determination and will to help Ron to overcome her pain.

"Shego, I don't know what Drakken has done but if he has done as much as bruised Ron's cheek I'll make sure you two are locked up in a detainment facility in Cuba before sunrise! I'm giving you two options. One, you surrender now and allow the Military Police outside to restrain you so that I can go help Ron and capture Drakken as quickly as possible. Or two, I kick the green out of you and let then let an ambulance give you a preferential ride to the prison's hospital!"

The villainess grinned even more widely as she raised her arms in the air ready to fire the ultra-condensed plasma she had been accumulating.

"I'll give you a better offer princess. After I'm done with you I'll drag you over to where your little boyfriend is and put the two of you together. I'm sure that whatever trap Dr. D managed to arrange for the dork will have enough room to accommodate you too. Now let's…"

Whatever taunt was about to come from Shego's lips died instantly along with her plasma flames when she heard Ron's next call for help. The gauntlets' cooling system glowing and hissing in protest as they had to dissipate the power of the unreleased plasma.

"Oh, no! Please, no! I can't stop his bleeding, Kim! Help me! Shego! Shego! Come quick, I can't stop his bleeding!"

To Shego's credit, her reaction to Ron's words was a lot quicker than Kim's. One second she was staring in open mouthed shock at Kim, still holding her arms up even as the glow of her plasma had dissipated as soon as her concentration was interrupted, and then the next second she was quickly sprinting over crates and boxes and running under the parked aircrafts as she hurried to reach the side of the hanger on which Stoppable had gone chasing behind Drakken. The whole way there she kept looking straight ahead, not even glancing back to see if Kim was chasing her, subconsciously and instinctually aware that Kim wouldn't attack her from behind in a situation that had made a turn for something so unpleasantly unusual that it had surprised both of them.

The only thing that occupied Shego's conscious mind as she ran was selecting the shortest route to reach the place from where she had heard Ron, and a desperate chant which she would much later remember with bitter humor: 'Please, Let it be the rat. Let it be the rat. Let it be the rat, squeezed under a metal crate with the buffoon crying over it. When I get there I want to see that creepy pink pest with its guts on the ground. I'll even settle for seeing it wit a broken leg. But please, let the rat be the one that's…"

Turning a corner around the maze of crates and assorted military equipment, Shego came to a halt in front of a sight that made bile burn her throat as her breath hitched. In a mere instant Shego's subconscious formed an idea that she instantly knew to be true the moment it presented itself to her consciousness; While she had made a name for herself in villainy doing things that would terrify many others, she knew that this vision in front of her would be the first thing that she would truly regret ever seeing from now on. The gasp of Kim Possible arriving immediately after her and furious thumping of her own heart secondary details to complement what her eyes saw at that moment.

There was the boy, in his knees and crying openly as he tried with his blood-stained hands to stanch the flow of blood coming out of the wound of a still body. And there was Doctor Drakken, looking almost relaxed as he sat in the floor with his back resting against the experimental turbine he had been so thrilled to steal tonight. His arms were at his sides with one of his hands clutching a small portable ray gun in a tight-fisted grip and the other hand relaxed palm-down against the puddle of blood that grew around him. His normally dynamic face frozen in an expression of mute and desperate disbelief as his glazed eyes stared straight ahead at the large rod of metal sticking out of his chest, piercing his coat as his own blood changed its blue color to a more sinister black.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter 2: 'Ray Gun'._


	2. Chapter 2: 'Ray Gun'

**CHAPTER 2: _Ray Gun_**

* * *

_"Stardate 1513.1. The Enterprise is in orbit around planet M113 and we are preparing…"_

This was the life for Wade Load. While the young genius was more than content multitasking and keeping track of the ever changing information displayed in the dozen monitors that surrounded his work station, even he needed to relax occasionally. And while he couldn't overlook his responsibilities as, unofficially, one of Global Justice's most important analysts and Kim's go-to man for information; he could take the liberty using his main screen for entertainment when his work load was light.

He had everything prepared for an entire afternoon of one of the purest forms of geek entertainment: Two bags of microwave popcorn, a soda large enough to drown in, and his main computer screen tuned in to the TV signal of a Star Trek marathon. He would still need to check his work monitors regularly, but nothing too important was going at the moment that would require his full concentration. He could just lay back and bask in the glow of the screens, not a worry in the world. Radiation-induced impotence wouldn't start to bother him for a couple of years more.

But just when Captain Kirk was going to have his first confrontation with the Salt Vampire, one of the alerts in Wade's communication system started to beep. The young teen sighed tiredly and switched the screen from the show to the Kimmunicator's incoming transmission. As untimely as the interruption was, the young teen was always more than happy to talk with Kim so his tone was cheerful when the communication link was established.

"Hey, Kim! Are you rea…"

"Wade! I need you to contact GJ and have emergency medical personnel here ASAP! Tell them we have people here that need immediate air transport to the nearest medical installation and a surgery team ready on arrival. We will…"

"Whoa! Kim, what happened?"

"I really don't have time to explain, Wade. Just, please, get GJ medical personnel here soon. Ron is… Drakken is the one most seriously wounded. He has lost a lot of blood; I don't think he is breathing. Hurry!"

Kim's distressed face disappeared as she cut the transmission and Wade's screen automatically switched back to the Star Trek marathon, but the kid genius was no longer paying attention to the show. After Wade had a second to recover his bearings, he quickly turned to his conventional phone and started to dial the number for Dr. Director's personal line. If Kim wanted GJ to immediately respond, Wade knew of no better person to call to get the medical response team ready and mobilized without delay. In the background, the sounds of the TV continued undisturbed.

_"We are too late. He is dead, Jim."_

* * *

_5 Minutes before the Kimmunicator call…_

"This is wrong, KP!"

Over the years both members of Team Possible had used that very same phrase to describe many of the situations they had to face while battling villainy and the freak occurrences that seemed to follow Kim and Ron wherever they went. Most often than not, they used the term lightly. However, Kim had sometimes thought the word when she was left with nothing else to describe some of the worst situations that had personally affected her, like her date with The Incredible Melting Man during the Diablo Incident or the Graduation-Day chaos. And while Ron often abused it to complain about everything from the lack of Diablo Sauce packets in a take-out order of Bueno Nacho to accidentally swallowing monkey hair, Kim could only remember two other situations in which he had said it with as much desperation as he did right now.

While Shego had been the first one to break her fighting stance and had taken the lead in their rush to respond to Ron's calls for help when he mentioned somebody was seriously injured, Kim had kept her focus on what would have to be done once they reached Ron. She judged by her enemy's reaction that the villainess had every intention to reach the section of the hangar where the screams had originated from, so she made the very unusual decision of trusting Shego's intentions and skills to select the shortest route as Kim followed her and concentrated on damage control.

As she ran Kim had been internally reciting everything she learned in her first aid training concerning how to treat bleeding wounds, made a mental list of the contents of the first aid kit in Ron's belt, checked the building's walls for the closest exit, and began to imagine what she would tell Wade if calling for outside help became necessary.

She also considered the situation to surmise just who Ron could be trying to aid. Rufus certainly came to mind, which prompted Kim to locate the closest emergency veterinarian clinic in her mental map of the area, but she was also worried by the possibility that Drakken had injured an innocent bystander. The injured man could very possibly be a technician or mechanic that had been working late and didn't have the chance to evacuate the building when the villains arrived.

And as much as Shego's reaction had told Kim that the villainess believed her boss to be wounded, Kim had known Drew Lipsky long enough to think the malicious loon was practically indestructible.

Unfortunately, neither Kim's opinion of Drakken's apparent invulnerability or her preparations for a light injury stood to reality. The heroine had almost stumbled against Shego's back when the woman had suddenly stopped, but Kim forgot the reflex to question the villainess' inconsiderate halt when Kim saw all the blood on Ron's hands.

The following seconds were a daze for Kim. The response strategies she had been mentally preparing failed to cover the gravity of the situation. Never before had she seen so much blood spilt during a mission. Not even when she aided in rescue efforts had she been unfortunate enough to be with any of the teams that had been the first to find somebody as wounded.

The sight had left Kim off balance, and once again Shego's gut instincts allowed her to be the first to react, but what she did was not something the heroine would have imitated. The woman marched towards Ron, lifted the young man by the neck and flung him away as far away as she could.

In Ron's present state, had Kim not moved to catch him, he would have most likely broken his neck when his body struck the ground. As it was, Shego had used so much force to throw Ron that Kim couldn't stay on her feet when Ron's body hit hers and both heroes fell down.

Kim was going to scold the woman for that dangerous stunt, but she had to keep quiet when she noticed the villainess' cold professional expression as her full concentration was focused on examining the wound in her boss' chest. Kim wanted to stand up to take a closer look, but Ron had latched onto her as soon as he recognized what he had collided with. The heroine sat as best as she could with her boyfriend holding her in tight grip, with no intentions of letting go.

"This is wrong. This is so wrong. I didn't want this to happen, I swear! I was just going to use the pole I found to disarm him."

"Sssh… Ron, I need you to let go so I can…"

"Kim, you have to do something! I… I think I used too much of my power, but I was so angry!"

Kim was at odds about what to do. While her professional side told her that Ron's distress paled in comparison to the importance of aiding her wounded arch-foe, her sentimental side was troubled by the idea of forcibly pushing Ron away in his moment of need.

Almost a minute had already passed after the arrival of the two women and there was no time to waste, Kim was forced to make the decision of quickly attempting to appease Ron one final time and convince him to let go of her. If he didn't comply, she would have no alternative but to extricate herself and abandon him on the spot while she called for help.

"Ron, we will fix this, I swear. But you have to let me go, now."

"He… He tied to attack me with his gun but he missed and… and… He shot Rufus, Kim!"

"WHAT?"

The indignant question hadn't come from Kim, but out of the villainess' mouth. In her peripheral vision Kim had observed how Shego's body had visibly tensed even more when her hand had slid under the doctor's body, but her reaction to Ron's description of the events was explosive. The villainess sudden turn made Kim's attention shift from Ron to her, and what she saw made her blood go cold.

Shego was now standing and facing the heroes. Her gauntlets were as bloodstained as Ron's hands, but her face was set in an expression of malicious hatred Kim had only seen twice before. And in her right gauntlet, being held with a steady and firm grip was the ray gun that had previously been in Drakken's hand, and the irate villainess was aiming it straight at Ron.

"You did this because of your stupid rat? Imbecile little child, I'll make you regret this! For now this will have to suffice."

And before Kim could untangle their bodies and roll them away from the gun's sight, Shego pulled the trigger.

* * *

_5 Minutes before the Kimmunicator call…_

There was a pulse. It was faint but present. Why was she surprised? She knew that even in a nuclear apocalypse the blue pest was enough of a stubborn ass to survive and share the world with the cockroaches. The bugs would probably keep him as a pet and enjoy his attempts to conquer the roaches' world. She had been stupid to believe the dolt would be finally taken down by something as silly as being staked with a steel bar in the chest. Everything would be alright. Right? Yes.

Everything would be alright, she knew it. She wouldn't be rid of Drakken's infuriating existence until the day she died. Everything was fine-and-fucking-dandy. Shego was dissatisfied by the fact that she hadn't heard a solid crack behind her after throwing the buffoon away, but she had to handle the situation with her own idiot before dealing with Kim's.

A part of her subconscious mind considered that the fact she hadn't hurt Stoppable as a good sign. Not because she didn't want to do it, mind you, she truly desired to see the boy cry in pain and not just hear his whining.

If… When Dr. D told her what had transpired here, she would be sure to hold the boy accountable for his involvement in this. There may not be a revenge clause in her contract, but this was personal. Shego wouldn't allow this tarnishing of her reputation to go unpunished. She was the only one that could get away with injuring her employers. She would clean her reputation with plasma fire.

No, the reason her subconscious had for holding her bad luck in not seriously hurting Ron as a good sign came from the fact that a job with few injuries was normal. Normalcy was her punching and hurting the heroes during a job, but never seeing things became so severe that one of them would have to be carried out in a gurney. Normalcy was good. In a normal night Drakken would be telling possible she was 'not all that' as their ship took off.

In a normal night she wouldn't be attempting to staunch the blood flowing out of a large and deep wound in Drakken's chest. In a normal night Dr. D would be hopping around in one leg trying to hold in his tears after hitting his toe on a rock, not remaining unresponsive as the crimson puddle around him kept growing.

_"Kim, you have to do something! I… I think I used too much of my power, but I was so angry! I was just going to use the pole I found to disarm him."_

At this point Shego could barely tolerate the incessant whining of the boy and control the temptation of hurling a plasma blast at him. Couldn't he at least have the guts to keep it together while the adults in the room handled the mess he had caused? And of all the situations for Drakken to keep quiet, did have to happen in an occasion in which hearing his raspy voice would have been a relief for Shego?

The villainess swore that once her partner had recovered she was going to make him beg her to forgive him for… 'Oh, no… Please, no.'

It was at this moment that Shego noticed that no matter how well she reduced the hemorrhage in the chest wound, the puddle of blood kept growing at a steady pace.

Fearing the worst but keeping her ministrations as professional as she had done so far, she slid her hand around and under Drakken, The woman's whole body cramped when she felt what was there.

_"He… He tied to attack me with his gun but he missed and… and… He shot Rufus, Kim!"_

"WHAT?"

Ron couldn't have possibly chosen a worst time to tell Kim what had occurred. Shego's rage finally broke whatever mechanisms of self control she had been using and she turned around with boiling bloodlust in her mind, the confession multiplying the rage she was experiencing after she found the true extent of Drakken's injuries.

Stoppable hadn't just stabbed Drakken with the metal bar, the object had struck him with such force that it had crossed trough his torso. What the villainess felt in Drakken's back was the tip of the bar coming out of an exit wound far larger than the entry wound. The wound in Drakken's chest was almost surgical compared to the gaping hole in the doctor's back.

Shego considered herself to be quite adept at controlling her impulses when the situation truly merited it and needed it, but even she had problems suppressing her urge to vomit when her fingers touched the bloody mess of flesh and bones that surrounded the piece of metal at the exit wound. This chagrined her because she had been witness and cause of many worst injuries, but in no other occasion had she felt so sickened by one.

The villainess didn't remember when she had pried the ray gun from her boss' grasp; up to a second ago her attention had remained on succoring her partner. She didn't become aware that it was in her possession until she found it in her line of sight, already raised in her hand and aimed at the 'manchild' that had done this to the doctor.

Shego remembered that Drakken had been so proud of this invention, before and after she had dismissed its intended purpose as unimportant and strongly suggested he use it during that night's heist. He had gloated about the brilliance of the idea and how very simple the mechanism was. The blue loon had spent more time working in shaping the gun to look like something out of 'Buck Roger's' belt holster than in actually building the innards of the device.

Unknowns to her, the mad scientist had given some thought to the idea of demonstrating the gun to Shego by hitting her with the lowest power setting of his "MK-001 Iricioner Ray", but past experiences in which he had succeed or attempted to 'stealthoniously' surprise his employee in such manner, no matter how harmless most of the devices had been, always eventually resulted in physical pain for him and a ransacked wallet. This had occurred enough times to teach him not to use the villainess as a test subject… too often.

However, he had been so eager to demonstrate the amazing 'stopping power' of the gun to Shego that he had even accepted the deal of skipping this week's visit to the karaoke in exchange for her help in cornering the ultimate 'test subject'.

The difficulty of finding and confining their prey for the demonstration was greatly reduced once Shego implemented her plan of using her boss as bait. His complains at being forced to walk around the lair with his boots off adding enough notoriety to his peril that the prey bit the bait quite quickly.

In that rare occasion the startled reaction of the blue loon actually accomplished something useful and one of the ray gun's beams struck the target. After a quick examination of the motionless creature, Shego promptly renamed the gun with a new name and 'borrowed' it so she could familiarize with its use, returning it only after she had her fun with it and the battery was depleted.

A part of Shego's mind was aware that she had practically ordered Dr. D to carry the ray gun that night, but she didn't hold herself responsible for what had happened. Bringing new weapons with which to surprise the heroes and the authorities was part of their usual modus operandi. They didn't break the status quo that had ruled most of their confrontations with Team Possible and caused this to happen.

No, Shego saw Ron Stoppable as the one responsible for Drakken's injury. And now not only was he responsible for the blood spilt tonight, he was also distracting the one person the villainess knew could convince the authorities to get immediate medical help here while there was still a chance to save the doctor's life: Kim Possible.

Now she knew why her subconscious had moved her hand to take the gun. There were two things she would need to do to make Kim refocus her attention on the here and now so that she could her employer alive. One was to move the distraction currently leeching Kim's attention, and the other was removing any threat that may keep the medics at bay while the situation was out of control. 'Kimmie, this better be a damn good incentive for you to get off your ass and get some help here.'

"You did this because of your stupid rat? Imbecile little child, I'll make you regret this! For now this will have to suffice."

The villainess saw Kim struggle to get herself and her boyfriend out of harm's way, but Shego's marksmanship was perfect and the beam struck its target. Ron suddenly went slack in Kim's arms, much to the heroine's horror. But before Kim could react and unleash vengeance upon Shego, the two women made eye contact.

The solemnity Kim saw in Shego's eyes at that moment was a sharp contrast to the fury she had seen in them a mere second ago. The villainess spoke with a clear tone, keeping eye contact with Kim so she could get the message loud and clear.

"Get help here, **now**."

And then, much to the surprise of anyone that knew Shego or had even heard of the woman, the mercenary aimed the ray gun towards her own chest and pulled the trigger.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter 3: 'Coat'._


	3. Chapter 3: 'Coat'

**CHAPTER 3: _Coat_**

* * *

'Welcome to the exciting life of protecting the world from the forces of super villainy' That's what is written on the cover of the brochure they give new Global Justice employees, I'm not kidding. In the same envelope the brochure comes in there's an energy bar, the expected assortment of GJ identifications, and coupons. Some of the coupons are not even redeemable on this continent. 

Still, the whole package doesn't stand as the weirdest welcoming gift given by an intelligence agency when you compare it to what some of the other agencies give to their new employees. I heard rumors 'U.N.C.L.E.' gave their agents gift baskets in which every single one of the food items was a concealed grenade, and even the janitor at 'C.O.N.T.R.O.L.' gets one of the agency's iconic rotaryphone-shoes.

As for the excitement the brochure promised, you have to realize that not everyone that works for Global Justice gets to be a 'superspy'. For every field agent there are a dozen guys working backstage filling paperwork or monitoring transmissions. There's a whole team dedicated to listening to Dementor's wiretapped phone calls. Originally only one technician had to handle that job, but the supervisors realized that constant exposure to Dementor's personal calls was driving the technician to the drink. It turns out that the villain likes to go by the name of 'Suzee D.' on weekends.

Me? I'm stuck in the middle ground between field agent and background stooge. I'm one of the men the field agents call when things get rough! One of the guys they have hired to fix their mistakes! I'm Jack Bower… Emergency Medical Technician.

An EMT for Global Justice gets none of the glamour or perks of being a field agent, but you aren't trapped all day in an underground office like a paper pusher. You can never tell chicks your work for an international intelligence agency because of the confidentiality clauses in your contract, but you get your own assortment of cool toys. When I was an EMT in the civilian field I never got anything as fancy as a laser scalpel.

I do get the chance to travel around in a Vertical Take-Off and Landing aircraft, but it's hard to enjoy the ride when you have to prep-up the equipment on your way there, and take care of a wounded person on route to the closest GJ Medical Installation. And the charm of meeting all the famous superheros and supervillains is lost when you see them in a really bad day.

And it looked like today was one of those days for Kim Possible. Dr. Director herself went down to the emergency medical response hangar and assembled the rescue team. I didn't even get the chance to zip up my pants until we were in the VTOL-Ambulance, she slapped the helmet into the pilot's head and off we went.

Our full assignments were given to us by radio. We were to expect at least one serious trauma case, which I and my partner were given the duty to attend, and an unknown number of wounded with what were reported to be less serious injuries that were to be taken care of by the other medics.

I wasn't as surprised by the identity of our assignment as with his condition once we got there. I saw Kim Possible herself holding two fistfuls of bloody gauze to staunch the entry and exit wounds in Doctor Drakken's still body. I was sure she was treating a dead man, the amount of blood that had hemorrhaged out of the body was tremendous. Now, I don't want you to think I'm exaggerating. I'm saying this as a professional: Any normal human would have died long ago with that much blood loss. I pitied Possible because I was pretty sure she had accidentally killed one of her enemies, the guy looked ready to be packed in a body bag.

However, we aren't paid to offer the last rites, we get paid to save lives and fight the reaper as hard as we can. There was no response, no breathing, but there was a pulse. There really shouldn't have been one, but it was there and we intended to keep it going.

We took over and I reassured Miss Possible there was nothing she could do to help us right now, that she had done enough, and she seemed more than relieved to be able to leave the blue man in our hands as she went back to her partner's side.

We stabilized Doctor Drakken's condition for transport and transferred his body to our gurney. The team was in and out in record time, the dust the VTOL-Ambulance had kicked up during landing hadn't even settled when we took off towards the nearest GJ base.

Now comes the second odd part of our journey. You have all seen the doctor's usual style on the TeeVee: Black boots, thick gloves, blue combat pants and some odd mix between a labcoat and Dr. No's jacket. The kind of costume Vincent Price would have approved.

Well, Doctor Drakken's choice of clothing was making my efforts to save his life quite impossible. Part of the special training the field medics of GJ receive covers how to handle the most unusual styles of clothing. We are taught how to recognize and handle potential threats like pocket explosives or mysterious vials, and how to cut open power suits and other similar armors. We are even under strict orders to never even attempt to unmask a superhero if he chooses to keep his identity a secret.

Whatever the blue man's clothing was made of, it behaved like no clothing material I had ever seen. It was as flexible as any natural fiber, but my attempts to cut it open with scissors were fruitless. And my laser scalpel did was left a scorch mark, but it didn't even scratch the fibers. I didn't have the intentions to test it, but I would bet my next paycheck the thing was bulletproof too. I tried to find a forcefield generator in the belt or the junk-filled pockets, but there was no cable or mechanism attached to the coat that could be powering it up or siphoning off the energy of the laser. The system was completely passive. The eggheads at GJ should have warned us of this. And just how strong is Miss Possible to have pierced this thing in one blow?

I was about ready to try the bone saw when I got my most brilliant adrenalin-induced idea of the week. It wasn't exactly the safest option for the doctor, but it was covered under our training for how to remove armors when the carapaces had been pierced in a similar way. Two slots to the left of the laser scalpel in our rescue kits there is the poor man's choice of a pocket disintegrator. Its beam becomes harmless two inches off the muzzle, but it still is not anywhere near safe enough to be used to cut any piece of clothing in close proximity to the skin. However, I wasn't going to use it on the coat, but in the metal bar sticking out of the blue man's chest.

The surgical team on the Global Justice base would have to handle the removal of the foreign object, but I had to control the bleeding in the meantime and prep him up for immediate emergency surgery. And considering I couldn't cut this man's coat with my tools or yank the bar out myself, I would attempt to shorten the bar and then undress him conventionally.

I will skip the unpleasant details of disrobing a bloody human blueberry, but I gotta say I did a damn good job under the circumstances. Fortunately, for him and me all he had under the coat was a blood stained cotton 'wifebeater'. From then on the rest of my work was as routinary as you could expect from this amount of trauma. The transfer went without a hitch, except for the fact Kim Possible's assistant and his rat got priority in the transfer to the medical installations, and I didn't notice any more seriously unusual things until after we had surrounded the patients to the doctors and nurses waiting for us at the hangar.

During the clean up of the VTOL-Ambulance I discovered two things: First, the other technicians that had attended the other patients didn't discover any wounds of notoriety that could explain their state. The green babe, the boy and the rodent were all in the same condition: Unconscious and unresponsive, but with normal vital signs. Except for the fact their respective EMTs couldn't make them react, their bodies just acted as if they were sleeping.

Second, while packaging the blue man's clothes and all the junk that had fallen out of the pockets to surrender to my superior, I stumbled upon some things I couldn't recognize at first. Stuck to the hole in the back of the coat, among all the coagulated blood and ripped tissues, there were sharp and shiny cobalt-blue fragments made of what looked like polished steel. I hadn't noticed the doctor carrying any hip flask or extra pieces of solid armor that could have explained the source of fragments, and they didn't match the color of the steel bar that had injured him.

It took me a minute of examination to figure out what they were. While the surface of the fragments was as shiny as polished metal, the insides were blue and porous, and it was then that I knew. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't found them myself among the other remnants of the injury that had been left in the coat and seen the color of the man they belonged to. They were pieces of bone.

* * *

_To be continued in Chapter 4: 'Cage'._


	4. Chapter 4: 'Cage'

**CHAPTER 4: _Cage_**

* * *

'Drakken is a dead man.' 

Sometimes your mind repeats a thought so often that thinking about it becomes a reflex, as strong and automatic to as moving your hand away from an open flame. In any case, this unspoken wish to murder the blue loon had been the first thing to cross my mind many mornings. Whenever I woke up with an aching rib, or a twisted knee, or sore muscles, or a karaoke-induced buzzing in my ears, or a migraine triggered by stress, I instantly knew Drakken was at fault and repeated this mental mantra.

There are thousands of dangerous and harsh jobs that make workers wake up in pained bodies every morning, but I'm willing to place a wager you can't find more than three different jobs that cause you as many different and changing afflictions as working with Doctor Drakken can cause you. I have been working with that mad man for years and yet there are still mornings when I wake up believing I have discovered a brand new type of injury.

Drakken would be honored to know I believe governments should add him to every list of hazardous substances that exist and warn the public that prolonged exposure to him can be dangerous to the health, safety and sanity of anyone that deals with him. He has surpassed the classification of pain in the ass and graduated with honors to full and deathly aggravator. Long ago I had taken the risk of constant bodily and mental harm as an acceptable risk of working with him when I valued it against the benefits it gave me. However, that didn't stop me from worrying that one day one of his plans would cause my demise.

Dr. D. must have made me crazy already. I should feel jubilant that I had managed to outlive him; I shouldn't be as worried for him as I was at that moment. After using my mental mantra to curse Drakken for somehow causing the terrible headache that assaulted my senses when I regained consciousness, in front of my mind's eye began to roll by the memories of what had occurred during our attempt to steal the Magnus-Turbine Prototype, and immediately I regretted thinking about it. As if in this occasion my curse had retroactively caused Drakken's…

'Bah, humbug, Shego. It is not your fault. It is not. You know who… ruined your reputation as proficient bodyguard. Are you going to lay here with your eyes closed and wait until things get better by themselves? Of course you are not. You have to gain control of the situation, find out what… where the blue idiot is and bust out of this place. Rise and glow, its time to get cracking…'

And I opened my eyes to a sight that not only confirmed that everything I remembered wasn't a dream, but that the situation had complicated for me.

"…or not."

* * *

'Freak. I could be on my way home already if you weren't such a pathetic little monster and died already like you are supposed to do.' 

I had heard tales of how annoying this blue bastard could be, but I had no idea he would mess up my plans for the night simply by staying alive. When the medical staff received the news we were to expect Team Possible and The Drakkens, I was delighted. I couldn't wait to have Kim Possible or Shego on my operating table. I enjoy a certain… thrill when a beautiful woman lies at my mercy. To know they depend of my skills to keep breathing. To actually be the deciding factor that separates those who live from those who die.

Which is why was disappointed when the response team confirmed that the most serious case was just Drakken, but the inconveniences he caused me started after I began to operate the retard. The injury was nothing uncommon, practically a text book case. What was not just as common was why this messed up filth had a pulse, as I discovered when I cut him up.

And when I judge that blue freak him as messed up I don't do it only as the paragon of human morality that I am, but as a surgeon. Performing surgery on Drew Thaddeus Lipsky was probably one of the oddest experiences in my career. The scalpel sank into him with more difficulty than I expected, and I immediately realized the abnormality of his skin wasn't limited to its color. While the shallow cut I made with the blade began to bleed normally, the edges of the cut refused to break apart. It was as if I had barely scratched the surface.

I was in no particular hurry to save the man, but I couldn't allow the freak to make me appear inefficient on the coroner's report. His skin felt and looked practically normal, it was not calloused but it was as thick as leather. It may have looked almost normal on the outside, but cutting the skin open was like trying to cut the rubber in a car's tire. It took me a while and a larger scalpel, but I finally managed to get a good ample cut to access the man's interior.

The sight of his exposed entrails made my efforts worth it. As a surgeon, I feel I can appreciate the beauty of the human body more than any philistine. And while the outside of Drew Lipsky was simply comical to me, the insides were quite a sight to behold. Blue. So much blue. Most of the man's soft tissues had normal and healthy colors, but his entire rib cage was a shiny cobalt blue. The ribs to the left of his body were a smashed mess caused by the trauma of the metal bar's impact, but everything to the right of the sternum was still a pristine and metallic blue.

I had pity for the fact I had to further ruin such beauty with the bone saw just to keep him living. If the mad man had died in transit, maybe we would have had the chance to donate his bones to a museum. But then again, had he died on his way on the ambulance I wouldn't have been the discoverer of Drew Lipsky's most impressive internal anomaly.

It was an arduous job, but I managed to hack my way into his ribcage, and I was marveled. I could clearly hear the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in the background noise of the room, but I my very own eyes that saw that this man's heart had not only been pierced and torn by the metal bar, but it wasn't even moving. The body had pulse and blood flow, but this heart was dead and so should have been its owner.

At that point I was positively giddy with excitement. I noticed my sudden laughter made the anesthetist look at me with repulse, but I couldn't care less at that moment. Slicing my way into Drakken's body had become an adventure, like an expensive Christmas present wrapped in yesterday's newspaper. From that point on I was actually careful and used my skills to attempt to preserve the blue man's life, if only because I couldn't wait for the chance to further study this freak.

I managed to control the internal bleeding as was my duty, but I continued operating just for the pleasure of discovery, moving beyond the area of the trauma injury despite the protests of the nurse. It was in that way that I found the piece-of-resistance in this gallery of living tissue.

"Oh, My… What a pretty little thing we have here."

Residing in the right side of the ribcage, connected to the circulatory system in a perfect imitation of its twin, was a second heart. It was a mirror copy of the normal heart on the left side of the body, perfect and healthy looking in every conceivable way. Only this one was still alive, beating, and midnight-blue.

* * *

If my headache didn't kill me, the boredom would. I was not at all surprised to wake up in what could only be a fancy jail cell, but I was unpleasantly impressed by how well designed it was to contain me. I spent hours trying to burn, slash, or smash pick my way out of the room. 

The room was as Spartan as any standard prison cell, but it was obvious they had customized it for someone as 'special' as me. Every wall, the ceiling and the floor must have been connected to a pretty nifty heat sink system, because not even a prolonged plasma blast directed at the smooth ceramic walls or at the thick steel door did more than just warm up the surface a little.

An inspection of the miniature air vents near the ceiling and the water and waste lines for the sanitary 'facilities' revealed they were protected by the same defenses against overheating, which made me have to discard the idea of melting the walls from the inside out.

The only way in or out of the room was the thick steel door. The door itself had two openings: At eye level there was a small acrylic window with a lid cover at the other side that was currently closed, and in the middle of the door there was a boxy arrangement with a metallic flap on each side of the door to pass objects from one side to the other. The 'security box' didn't allow the two sides to be open at once so, while the space was big enough for me to crawl through, there was no way for me to access the other side or shoot whoever was stupid enough to stand outside my cell. My attempts to tamper with the mechanism, the lock of the door or the acrylic window were useless. Plasma defenses like these were fortunately, for me, too bulky to be installed in every security facility but they were reliable enough to keep me locked… for a while.

As for me, I wasn't exactly at top shape. While I was unconscious somebody had taken my suit and dressed me in a freaking yellow prisoner's jumpsuit. They had found and taken all my gadgets and tools and I was left with nothing of what I had with me originally except my underwear. As for the gauntlets, the fresh scratches on my arms revealed that they had that they had broken the locks on 'Crow' and 'Tom' with some kind of powertool and taken them away. That was a damn shame. Not only the extra power boost of the gauntlets may have allowed me to overload the heatsink that kept me trapped, but I had some M&Ms stored in one of their compartments. I really could use some chocolate right about now.

As for my headache, I couldn't even blame Drakken's ray gun for that. Dr. D. had assured me that the ray wouldn't have any secondary effects unless one was exposed to it during a considerate amount of time. The 'Doze-Off' ray as I renamed it, or the 'MK-001 Irictioner' as Drakken insisted on calling it using a pun, was Dr. D.'s big solution to Commodore Puddle's little 'mood swings'.

The man was too much a softie to put down that bipolar lab specimen and neither of us felt that keeping it in a cage all day was right when he was behaving, so the mutt had free reign of the C-Lair most of the time. The beast rarely bothered us, too content with the fresh henchmen buffet, but when the lair was operating with a skeleton crew it sometimes decided to sharpen its teeth with Drakken himself or my stuff. So, as always, D. skipped the simplest solutions of using an electric-shock collar or a dart gun and assembled his own portable sleeping-ray out of desk junk and an old soviet diode he had me steal under the pretense it was a special part for the new airship he was building.

No, I couldn't blame the 'Blue Meanie' for THIS headache. The fresh bump on the left side of my skull and the bandages wrapped around my head told me one of two things had occurred: One, I struck my head with something when I shot myself with the ray gun and lost consciousness. Or Two, My 'hosts' were less than careful with me before putting me in this jail cell and bumped my head during transport. Ah, and I can't forget the possibility that Jimmie gave a good kick in the head for shooting her boyfriend with the ray gun. I wouldn't blame her, but the fact that this is my only injury tells me that at least she realized the boy was just unconscious and I hadn't killed her blonde moron… yet.

As for my own idiotic partner, I had no idea about what condition he was in. I was locked, so I knew that the authorities did arrive eventually, but I had no idea if they arrived in time to save Drakken's life. After my discouraging evaluation of the cell's security I was reduced to pantomiming I wanted to talk with whoever was in charge of the installation in front of one of the hidden cameras I had found in the room, but I accomplished nothing except probably amusing whoever was at the other end.

So, I spent more hours than my internal clock could keep track off pacing around room, smudging the lenses of the security cameras, counting dust particles in the air and generally avoiding thinking about the incident that brought me here except to come up with different ways to rectify the damage to my reputation by breaking some buffoon bones.

Finally, after a long time suffering this monotony, I heard the steps of someone approaching or passing by in front of the door. I began to slam my fist against the door and shout to get the attention of whoever it was.

"Hello? Room service? I seem to have locked myself in my room. Would you be kind enough to open the door for me? Alright, now that I got your attention, stop for a moment. Unless we are in Cuba I'm entitled to a phone call. I also need to know what happened to the woun…"

The steps stopped right outside my door and the lid that covered the acrylic window was slid aside. There I was confronted with the stern visage of a woman I had met in rare occasions, but that I knew quite well about. 'Well, Shego, It's time to put your game face on and hide your cards; you are playing with a pro here. Just remember you got the advantage here, not her. You are the villainess, you can cheat.'

"Oh, I see what happened, you got the wrong person. I understand it was an honest case of mistaken identity, Betty, but I'm not Odysseus."

* * *

Doctor Betty Director rarely had truly good days. In an international intelligence and espionage agency like Global Justice there were always situations to be handled and controlled in several different countries. Criminals and supervillains didn't take turns in their attempted to steal fortunes or take over the world. GJ had to keep an eye out for more criminals than just those in Kim Possible's roster of criminals, and the agency certainly had assigned some of the most eccentric madmen and evil masterminds out there. 

Today had started as one of those rare good days for Dr. Director. No phantom itching in her eye lid, no serious threats that could lead to imminent destruction of property, none of her agents reported personal risk, and no abnormal activity was detected by any of the long range scan systems. Things had been going so well that all day long she had been unsurprised and ready for the worst when her personal phone began to ring.

Now she had the problems of a possible fatality or serious injury of a widely-recognized figure incurred by the actions of some of her unofficial 'agents', an investigation to cast aside the suspicion it may not have been entirely accidental, and dealing with a living plasma torch with psychotic tendencies. And now that she was personally involved, she wouldn't let anybody else handle this. Kim Possible may be mostly an independent agent, but Dr. Director was too grateful of the aid the young heroine gave GJ as to let her reputation be muddled by the incompetence of an internal affair's investigation.

"_Oh, I see what happened, you got the wrong person. I understand it was an honest case of mistaken identity, Betty, but I'm not Odysseus." _

'Har, har. A Cyclops joke, never heard any of those. If this green nutso thinks she is going to make me lose my balance with petty remarks, she has been fighting with teens for way too long. You have the advantage here, Betty.'

"No, Miss Go, I think we both know why you are grace us with your presence, you are here for…"

"I'm here because you need me to be here, Betty. Had you sent a lackey to talk with me, I may have believed I was just waiting for the transport to a high security prison, but you wouldn't come see me just to gloat about my capture. You didn't accomplish it and by now you must know that I allowed that to happen. You want me to talk and I may or may not refuse to do it. It depends of what you want me to say and whether or not you can meet my price."

'Ah, Perhaps verbal sparring with a teen like Possible doesn't dull the wit as much as one would expect.'

"Miss Go, I want nothing you are unaccustomed of doing every time you or your boss are captured. You must give us the statement of your intentions and actions in the Hangar Number 21 of the Nelson USAF base."

"I must do nothing. You may not be holding a recorder in front of my mouth, but you can take the record of whatever I say in one of my cell's bugs. You could just as well just asked me what I did tonight, but you want the location on record for something important. You tell me what you need it for, or I won't talk without a lawyer present."

"Very well, Miss go. Kimberly Ann Possible and Ronald Stoppable already gave us their statement concerning last night's events, and internal affairs would like to correlate these with your own statement as an eyewitness and participant."

"Internal affairs? Aww, Don't tell me they want to get Kimmie's man-child about what he did to Drakken before I get a chance to speak to him in person. Can't you tell them to wait their turn? I promise to leave them a piece. At least I know nothing bad happened to him while I was taking my little nap, it would be a shame if he couldn't make it to the little meeting I have planned with him."

"Miss Go, I would advise you to be careful of what you say, but I suspect that you are being vague about your threats on purpose. However, you are mistaken on assuming internal affairs suspects of Miss Possible for the attempt to murder both you and your boss, not of Ron Stoppable, despite the fact that the statements of both of them contradict such theories"

The villainess was silent for a moment, but slowly a smirk grew on her face. And whatever it is that made Miss Go so happy was bound to cause trouble, and Dr. Director knew this.

"Well, we can't have that, cant we? 'Attempted', huh? I should have known I wouldn't get rid of Drakken so easily. Alright, how about you repay me this big favor I would do to you and the princess with an immediate release for me and the doc? I'm sure that would get me a dandy payment bonus from Dr. D."

"… Miss Go, The most I could probably offer you is a reduction of your sentence, and only for your extraordinary cooperation and as for…"

"Pfft. What use do I have for a reduced sentence? I'll eventually escape and drag Drakken with me, you would just be saving me a few days of having to eat prison food.

"At this point, I think you would benefit a lot by not interrupting me again, Shego. Am I being understood? As I was saying, Drew Lipsky is in no condition to be released."

"Bah! Doctor Drakken has enough money to pay for a top notch medical attention, better than what any government employee could provide him. I don't think he is stupid enough to be stingy with something like medical expenses."

"Shego, Drew Lipsky can't be moved in his condition. Kim Possible told me you had examined his injuries, I thought you were aware of their extent. Our medical staff has been aiding him the best we can but the extent of his internal injuries is terrible. There have also been very unfortunate and mysterious reactions from his unique physiology to the injuries."

Dr. Director expected a reaction from Shego when she heard about the preliminary medical report the doctor had made, but she didn't quite expect one as, literally, explosive. The villainess ignited her hands and slammed her fists against the door with enough force to rattle the thick steel hinges, her face morphed quickly morphed into vicious fury.

"What? What the fuck do you mean with 'unfortunate and mysterious'? What kind of quacks did you hide that can't help a guy just because he is blue? I swear, Betty, that if you are letting him die just to make the evidence against Stoppable disappear, I will make you eat the eyeball you have left."

"Miss Go, I'll let your menacing pass unpunished on this single occasion just because I know how it feels when a partner is injured while on a mission. I feel it is degrading to compare what you and your employer do with the heroic efforts of the agents that have been injured on the line of duty, but I believe I can tell you that I personally understand how you are feeling."

Shego struck the door a second time with less strength than before, but his face didn't change an inch. Spittle flew out of her mouth and onto the acrylic window as she continued to scream at the woman in charge of Global justice.

"You understand nothing. Don't assume you do or that I need whatever empathy you feel you have to favor me with. If Drakken perishes three things would happen: I would lose a steady and comfortable job, my reputation would take a tremendous hit, and Stoppable would find out just what I feel about such a serious damage to my criminal career. Nothing more. The only real pity for me is that the blue jackass got injured under my watch and how it will make me look to other employers."

"… I see, Miss Go. In that case I will arrange your transfer to a high security prison as soon as you give us your statement. Now I understand there's no reason to keep you hear awaiting more news on your employer's condition. I will give you a few hours to calm down and I will come back later to negotiate the deal of what Global Justice can offer you in exchange for your cooperation. Have a good day, miss go."

Doctor Betty Director slid the lid of the window closed and began to walk away with her hands behind her back. She slowly shook her head in disappointment. She had obviously misjudged Shego's interest in the well being of her employers.

"Wait!"

The head of Global Justice stopped and stood rigidly, not even bothering to turn to look at the steel door she had already walked a few feet away from. She truly wasn't in the mood to listen to the requests of this selfish woman.

"Yes, Miss Go?"

"What… What's wrong with him?"

'Or perhaps I hadn't… That tone of voice was certainly more humane.'

"Miss Go, like I attempted to explain to you before, at this point we don't exactly understand what is causing this, but Drew Lipsky's rather unique physiology is reacting very negatively to all our efforts to treat his internal injuries. The surgeons have controlled the bleeding, but since then all the tissues around the wound have begun to deteriorate and die. At this point it is as much a mystery why this is happening as to how he can still be alive after so much damage. He remains in a coma, but at least his unconsciousness permits him to avoid feeling the pain of his injuries. You may not believe me, Miss Go, but we are doing everything in our power to help Drew Lipsky."

"Oh… His… His name is Doctor Drakken"

That hitched sentence made Doctor Director's eyebrow rise in puzzlement.

"I beg your pardon, what did you say?"

"Are you half deaf too? I said his name was Doctor Drakken. That's the name he chose, and under these circumstances you and your subordinates should respect his wish to be called with that name."

"Considering most people know him under that alias, that request may not be too difficult to enforce. Very well, I will attempt to use 'Doctor Drakken' as his name, at least until the situation normalizes."

"What did you mean with 'unique physiology'? How different can it be to treat man with blue skin from any other person?"

"I didn't expect you to be completely unaware of this, Miss Go, but Doctor Drakken's biological differences to a normal human being weren't limited to his blue skin. He had never needed such extensive medical care under our watch, so we had ignored it as well. The surgeons have found a large number of mutations in his internal physiology. None of them malign malformations like tumors, but fully functional secondary organs and reinforced systems. There are some glands attached to his spine which we don't recognize, but they appear to be benign as well. Along that, more than just his skin has turned blue. Most of these extra organs and systems are blue too, along with his whole skeleton. His bones are a metallic blue and possess a density that is much higher than normal, making them a lot more resistant than normal human bones. In conclusion, we can't exactly sure of what Drakken truly is. Considering you didn't know the extent of his physiological anomalities, I suppose you couldn't tell us what exactly occurred to turn Doctor Drakken blue. Am I incorrect?"

"He… never told me exactly what happened, it was before I began to work for him. He said one of his experiments 'exceed its programmed limitations', but I never cared to ask more."

"It is a shame you don't know more, Miss Go. If we knew what caused Drakken's… change, then perhaps we would be able to figure out why his body is reacting so negatively to the injury and perhaps work on a treatment. There's more you should know, the metal bar…"

"It struck the spine, didn't it? The… hole was too big to have missed it entirely. How bad is it?"

"You are correct, Miss Go. The trauma severed Doctor Drakken's spine. Because of his mutations we can't be sure of how extensive the damage is, but it is very unlikely he will be able to walk or feel the lower half of his body if he awakens."

"…"

"Miss Go? Miss Go, is there anything else you would like to discuss before I depart?"

"Can I see him?"

"I'm… I'm afraid that is not possible under these circumstances. You are still considered a flight risk and it would be too dangerous to allow you to wander around the base."

"What?!"

"Perhaps I could arrange for you to see a video feed of Drakken's room, but I'm afraid that's all I can allow you at this moment."

"You… Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! You disfigured bastard, this is what we get after one of your little spy wannabes tries…"

Doctor Director didn't stay to listen to the rest of Shego's rant. As soon as it became obvious that the villainess wasn't going to cooperate or talk civilly at the moment, Betty Director began to walk away at a brisk pace. She didn't stop or say another word even when she thought she heard the sound of soft sobbing accompany the curses the woman directed at her.

_

* * *

__To be continued in Chapter 5: 'Window'._

The plot thickens and the '…' is abused.

I'll break the format for a bit just to thank everyone that has reviewed so far. Knowing there is interest in the story keeps me working regularly on the new chapters.

It is customary to thank all reviewers and encouragers by name, so here it goes:

Thank you Nueva Paz, Poptartfrog, mooneasterbunny, Psycho Clowns, CajunBear73, PoisonousAngel, Piratess of Summer and Naraku.


	5. Chapter 5: 'Window'

**CHAPTER 5: _Window_**

* * *

It had taken Betty Director days of negotiations that had been as tense as the cold war talks between the United States government and the Soviets just to make a deal with Shego in exchange for her statement. 

Whatever hopes Doctor Director had developed for Shego's cooperation after the villainess' emotional outburst at the end of her first visit had banished in the first five minutes of her second visit. The criminal's personality had been as snappy and caustic as always, not a trace of distress was noticeable in Shego's tone as she voiced her long list of demands. Both women knew that many of the things the villainess requested in return for her cooperation were impossible, but it was obvious Shego wasn't looking for a fair exchange.

However, the head of Global Justice noticed two important things during that second visit. While Shego had made many selfish requests and never once asked for anything that benefited her boss as well, she had been hasty to change and ignore the subject of her transference to a standard prison, even if her chances to escape would increase under those circumstances. And while the locked woman had acted nonchalant and had proceeded to calmly examine her nails while Doctor Director told her of the latest reports concerning Drakken's condition, that had been the only occasion during their whole conversation in which Shego hadn't interrupted her even once and had silently listened to everything she said.

In that second visit Betty Director hadn't accomplished any solid progress in her attempts to write a deal that Shego would accept in exchange for her testimony, but she now believed that she had gained enough knowledge of her opposite in the negotiations to determine what sort of incentives could lessen her antagonism.

And so it was that three hours after that visit had concluded, Shego was distracted from whatever routines of exercises she could perform inside her small cell by the sound of power tools and technicians working right outside her door. She couldn't see what they were doing with the lid of her window closed, but she fruitlessly attempted to gain their attention by playing the roles of damsel in distress held unlawfully and then of seductress. Their lack of response led Shego to believe that the crew of technicians was either all deaf, instructed to avoid interaction with the prisoners, or uninterested in women.

After about ten minutes of drilling into the wall and muttering technical jargon, Shego heard the men gathering their tools and leaving one by one. Just as she was about to drop the act of seductress and curse how their mothers had raised them, the last technician slid open the lid covering the tiny window of her door before scampering away.

The bright lights in the hallway outside the cell stung the villainess' eyes as they adjusted to the difference between her confinement's illumination and the outside world. Nevertheless, even her blurry vision of the world through the small window was enough to immediately make Shego press her forehead against the cold metal of the door as she peered at the sight outside her cell. Even if she recognized what she saw at once, a few seconds passed before she was able to voice just what she was seeing that made her eyes open wide and her pulse to speed up in fright.

"Drakken!"

* * *

Doctor Betty Director had come armed with more than just words to her third visit. The policies she had implemented as head of Global Justice were firm against the use of physical coercion, but at this moment she wasn't certain that what she was about to use as a bargaining chip against Shego was much better. 

Dr. Director tapped her finger tips against the stack of folders she held in her hands, looking straight ahead with a contemplative frown at the passing floors as the elevator she was in descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of the North American Global Justice Installation.

For all the fancy gadgets and damage control squads that Global Justice could boast of possessing, the agency kept at its core the directives of an intelligence gathering operation. Doctor Betty Director had strongly resisted the attempts of the politicians that had quite often attempted to influence the administration of the agency to shift budget spending from espionage in favor of the more flashy response teams and combat agents.

Global Justice was dedicated to stopping the super criminals in its watch lists before their plans escalated. As harebrained as many of their plans were, the collateral damage their attempts to enrich themselves or conquer territories could cause disturbances around the entire globe. Prevention was the key. Investigating communications and infiltrating their operations allowed agents to act in time by directly destroying their various doom machines before they could be fully operational, or preventing them from gaining access to crucial components for their plans. It was a wonder that Hench Co. was still oblivious to just how many of their henchmen for hire were undercover agents from Global Justice and its affiliated agencies.

Information was a weapon they used daily; however, never before had Dr. Director's been in possession of such unpleasant information that didn't even pertain to a criminal plot. During this meeting she had intended to inform Shego that Global Justice was doing everything legally possible to save Doctor Drakken's life, consulting with some of the best diagnosticians in the continent and sending inquiries to other agencies to find out if they had handled any similar cases.

Apart from gaining Shego's cooperation in the investigation of the hangar's incident, Betty Director wanted to satisfy her personal curiosity by asking Shego if Drakken had ever conducted illegal activities in Britain which Global Justice didn't know about. Dr. Director had received a request for more information as soon as an intelligence agency in London had received the initial inquiries GJ sent about Drakken's case, showing special interest in the fact that the patient was a doctor with two hearts, but they hadn't shown any more interest once they heard the man was blue.

Betty Director had been ready to encourage Shego to cooperate with some positive news about Drakken's stabilized condition. Up to a few hours ago all reports had indicated that the internal tissues had stopped dying and had begun to respond to the treatments. He remained unconscious, but his remaining heart and lung had taken the strain of their missing counterparts without problems and he was breathing on his own. The doctors had yet to discover why a simple trauma wound had caused such uncorrelated cellular damage, but the studies they had conducted had yet to reach a conclusive theory about why Drakken's physiology had responded so adversely. With this in mind, Doctor Director hadn't been prepared for the latest results delivered to her by the man's doctors.

A soft beep from the elevator's control panel interrupted Doctor Director's musings and alerted her that the machine had arrived to the floor of the high-security contention cells. Dreading what she was about to tell the facility's only occupant, but not wanting to delay the inevitable, the head of GJ abandoned the elevator and promptly passed the security check point.

Betty Director didn't have to walk far to reach the criminal's cell and it wasn't hard for her identify which door kept the criminal imprisoned: Besides having the number 05 painted on the surface, it was the only door in front of which a flat screen television had been installed on the opposite wall, right within visual range of the door's window.

Had she been in a better humor, she would have been pleased with the good job the technicians had done. Doctor Betty Director had ordered the installation of the device in the hopes that it would somehow lessen the animosity caused by her decision to prohibit Shego from seeing her boss in person, even if Shego hadn't requested the arrangement a second time. The image in the screen was clear and on focus, a mute live video feed of Drakken's hospital room.

Dr. Director felt appalled that the vision of the man's condition was so discouraging. The respirator had been removed yesterday, but the unnerving shapes of all the different tubes and sensors that connected his body to the medical machines were noticeable under the thin sheet that covered him. Nevertheless, Director forced herself to memorize the sight so that she could learn from this mistake to prevent it from repeating, and she didn't approach the line of sight of Shego's window until she was sure she would never forget the image of what one of her agents had done.

Looking into the cell, Doctor Director observed that Shego was sitting on the edge of her bed. The villainess must have heard her approaching long ago, but the woman didn't receive her with a snide comment and a sardonic smile like she had done the last time they had met. The expression on her face was calm and relaxed, maintaining eye contact through the pane of clear acrylic that separated them. The only noticeable oddity in her relaxed posture was the white knuckled grip with which she held her own knees.

"Miss Go. I'm afraid I have just received unfavorable reports concerning the health of your employer, Doctor Drakken. I regret to inform you that there have been unfortunate developments in the…"

"Cut the crap and spit it out."

"… Shelia, I'm truly sorry."

* * *

We had returned home with strict instructions to not leave the city. We weren't placed under house arrest, but the internal affairs department of Global Justice made it clear that we were under investigation. No matter what we told them, they didn't completely stop suspecting foul play over what had been an honest, and terrible, accident. 

Thinking back at what had occurred during that mission, I couldn't totally blame the investigators for thinking I wasn't being totally truthful. The idea that Shego had shot herself with the ray gun sounded very bogus even to me, and I was the only one awake and conscious when she did it.

Fortunately, Ron woke up hours before Shego and his version matched mine. I don't want to think what kind of problems Shego would have gotten me into if she had been up and lying about the accident before Ron could back me up.

In any case, internal affairs still wanted to hear the statements of the criminals, no matter how much I insisted they couldn't trust Shego, but in the mean time we were allowed to leave the base.

But the forced off-duty wasn't such a bad idea considering the aftermath of the accident and Shego's attack. Ron was pretty shaken by the events, and the little nap Drakken's ray gun made him take didn't made it any easier for him when he woke up covered in blood and surrounded by a med-team. After Ron gave his statement and with Wade's conclusions that the only effect of the rays gun's beams was instantaneous, but harmless and temporal, loss of consciousness, we took the still sleeping Rufus back home.

Overall, Ron was handling the guilt he felt over his participation in the accident quite well. The first day back he was a little overwhelmed, but our family and friends were there to support him and help him realize that what had happened to Drakken was nobody's fault. Of course I was there for him, but I wouldn't dare take the credit for his quick recovery. People that don't know Ron as well as I do would be surprised by how many allies Ron has found for us over the years. I think what finally gave Ron the final push he needed to get back on track was that conference call he had with Sensei, Rabbi Katz and Mr. Barkin. The conversation he had with the three men had been long but productive, helping Ron accept his role in the accident and only leaving him with a healthy desire to make amends with Drakken over what had occurred.

As for the villains, the last time I had seen her the unconscious Shego was being taken to a cell; and Doctor Director had kept us somewhat updated over the phone on Drakken's condition. Two days ago she had tranquilized us with the news that the man was in a delicate but stabilized condition and her personal promise that she would get the whole fiasco of the theories internal affairs had of foul play cleared up as soon as she could get Shego's statement recorded to satisfy the investigators.

However, today I had received a more cryptic call from Dr. Director. She barely mentioned that I was no longer a suspect of attempted murder thanks to Shego's statement and then she ordered me to be in her office ASAP. And considering all the help she had provided us to protect our reputations, I didn't feel the need to question her commands.

And when the head of GJ tells you she wants to see you as soon as possible, you run. On my way to the base I called Ron and told him to be ready for a mission and that I would pick him up as soon as I had our orders. Ron didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about going out so soon after the accident, but he was willing to go. And I firmly believed that this was a good opportunity to try to get things back to normal and reestablishing Team Possible.

I was in front of Dr. Director's desk in a new record time and ready to be sent out as soon as she answered the "Who?", the "What?", the "Where?" and the "Why" of our mission.

My jaw dropped when I heard the responses to these questions. I was instructed by Dr. Director to go down to the detention facility and talk to Shego about a mission she had for me. All Dr. Director could tell me was that Shego had requested I retrieve a sealed envelope from one of Drakken's lairs as part of the deal she made in exchange for her statement, but that only Shego knew the specifics of my 'mission'.

I hesitated. Considering the scare Shego had given me when she had attacked Ron with the ray gun, I was less than pleased with the idea of marching into what could very well turn out to be a dangerous trap. I asked Dr. Director if she was sure Shego wasn't trying to trick me, but all I got from her was a very solemn assurance that she didn't believe that to be the case.

I took a deep breath and nodded my understanding. I was on my way out of her office when she sighed and made one last request I couldn't quite understand.

"Possible, I would consider it a personal favor if you could try to avoid a conflict with Shego when you meet her. I don't feel I'm in any position to tell you the why at this moment, but I promise you it is important and that I'll try to explain everything to you when you come back. Now, please, Shego is waiting for you."

* * *

Before Betty left with the recording of my 'confession' and to call the princess, I asked her to turn off the screen. She dared to raise an eyebrow towards me in puzzlement but I didn't bother explaining the why. 

One part of me was truly sickened of the sight of the comatose Drakken, but there was also something inside me that had forced me to follow the routine of regularly checking the live feed of his hospital room, going as far as waking me up several times during the night and not letting me back to bed until I had glanced outside my window to see he was still there.

I was furious with myself for the nervousness I felt when I saw his hospital room suddenly empty on some of the occasions I checked the screen, always feeling sickened afterwards when I stayed glued to the window until they returned him to his bed after one of the many batteries of tests they performed on him at seemingly random times.

However, it wasn't my desire to turn away from the sight that made me ask Betty to turn off the television. I didn't want Kim to see it. Not only because I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing of Drakken's condition, but because I needed to talk with Kim without the distraction that would cause. When I requested her presence I had stipulated I was the only one allowed to reveal any information to her about Drakken's condition, and if that cyclops didn't obey that request I would be sure there would be hell to pay.

I had been waiting for what seemed like hours before I finally heard the sounds of steps approaching from the hallway. I quickly moved to the bed and laid back in the most relaxed position I could pose in, resting my chin against my chest as I placidly stared at the open window on my cell door. I didn't have to wait long before two narrowed eyes appeared on that space, frowning at me in suspiciousness while the tense voice of their owner greeted me in tense formality.

"Shego."

'Lights, Camera, and…'

"Kimmie! It is so nice to see you! Did you bring me any house warming gifts? You shouldn't have bothered, I won't be here for long!"

_

* * *

To be continued in Chapter 6: 'Vault'._

I thank all reviewers and readers for their interest in this story. 

If you enjoyed the story so far, or if have any advice to improve my writing style, I would be quite happy to read it, just take a minute of your time to leave a review. If I made any serious mistakes in grammar or spelling, I apologize and would appreciate if somebody could inform me of their location.


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